


Hands

by louisboutins



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Antisocial Zayn, Depression, First Person Zayn, Freshman Zayn, M/M, Older Liam, POV First Person, Parties, Positive Liam, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 02:24:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1534148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louisboutins/pseuds/louisboutins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn doesn't want to live anymore, and Liam doesn't like to touch people.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>or the University AU where Liam saves Zayn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hands

The first time he touched me I realized just how little I knew about him.

His face was soft but his hands were calloused. There was a small scar on his right hand, right below his thumb. A large series of scars were fading on his left wrist. I would have frowned, but he moved his hands up my waist and began to tug at the hem of my shirt.

He sucked hard at my neck, and it almost hurt. The excitment of the moment dulled the pain, amplifying every touch to one hundred and ten percent. Even the drag of fabric over my chest went in slow motion, sending goosebumps up my arms and shivers down my spine in the best way imagineable.

He removed his lips from my neck long enough to rip the shirt off, up over my head. Before I knew it, they were back, moving up my neck and to my own mouth. He pushed lightly on my chest, guiding me back down onto the couch. I fell hard, and he fell on top of me, and we fell together. It felt like falling for ages, those few inches to the couch, but we landed soft and he guided his hands up and down my skin.

In seconds, he was pulling off his own shirt, revealing a new set of secrets. A bit of hair, a birthmark, a stray freckle, and I tried my hardest to take it all in because I didn't know if I'd ever get to see it again. His skin was tan, but still showing blue veins on his arms and a purple bruise on his ribcage.

Out of pure curiousity, I touched the purple stain, and he flinched on instinct. I pulled my hand back and looked up at his face, brown eyes and brown hair, but no more of that cheeky grin he'd showed me at that party weeks ago.

"Are you lost?"

"I'm sorry?"

"This doesn't look like your kind of party," The boy had said, a wide smile and sparkling brown eyes.

I shrugged, "It isn't, really."

"Well, 'm Liam," he held out his red solo cup, and I tapped our glasses lightly, "Zayn," I told him, and we drank.

He didn't hit on me, in fact, I never felt like he was being anything other than friendly. It wasn't until the party was nearly over and his face had gone dark that he'd asked me, "Would you mind if I kissed you?"

"Not at all," I said, and I meant it. He licked his lips before he leaned in, setting his cup on the coffee table as he followed me down, onto the couch. There weren't sparks, sparks don't exist. Instead, there was a pleasant tingling and a lot of beer breath and tongue. He didn't touch me, he never touched me. He kept his hands politely on either side of me. I wanted him to touch me, I craved his touch. It had been so long since anyone had treated me with as much respect as he had, and I would have given it all to him right then and right there.

At the end of the night, he gave me a lopsided grin and a "Hope I see you 'round."

I had smiled and said, "Me too," but I went back to my dorm and took a cold shower for nearly an hour.

It wasn't a big suprise that I did see him around. Once, in the quad, I ducked my head and kept walking. Another time, in the coffee shop on campus, and I'd turned and walked right out. Something about him scared the hell out of me and I didn't know what to do about it.

The third time was the worst, that time I hadn't seen him first, I hadn't had time to run away.

"Zayn!" he called, a frisbee in hand. I turned around, already feeling the blood rush to my face.

"Hey," I said, demanding myself to be casual.

Liam ran a hand through his hair, "How've you been?"

"Good," I said, shrugging.

He nodded and smiled, and I felt myself slowly falling in love with him, "Do you wanna go get a coffee?" he asked.

In my mind, I ran away, but in reality, I skipped class and walked with him to the coffee shop. He bought my coffee and pulled my chair out for me, and I had to try so hard not to cry in front of him. He was so easy to talk to, so light and carefree and happy. I found myself smiling real smiles for the first time in months when I was with him.

We stayed there for an hour or two, until he looked at his watch and hopped up, telling me he had five minutes to get to class. I stood up, not ready to go back to my dorm, and not ready to never see Liam again.

"Can we do this again?" Liam asked, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

I nodded, "Sure."

"How about Friday at ten?" Liam asked, shuffling around a bit.

I nodded again, agreeing before I even thought about it. He gave me a kiss on the cheek and ran out of the coffee shop. I just stood there staring at the door because I really wasn't planning on living until Friday at ten, but Liam made me want to.

I pushed through the rest of the week for the sole purpose of that coffee date at ten. When I walked through the door at nine fifty-three, Liam was already there. He sat at the same table we'd been at a few days before, and he had two drinks, "I got you the same thing you got last time, I hope that's ok."

"That's great," I told him. My eyes were watering already, but I had to pinch myself because normal people don't cry when nice boys by them coffee, "Thank you."

"Do you want anything to eat? They have really good muffins, if you want one," Liam asked, fidgeting a bit in his seat.

"No, I'm good, thank you," I smiled, because that's what you're supposed to do, and I took a sip of my drink.

We sat even longer this time, by the time I left the coffee shop, it was well past one and I'd already missed the first half of my class. He asked to meet me for lunch on Monday as we were walking out the door. I agreed, once again.

Liam kissed me on the cheek again before walking in the opposite direction. I watched him shove his hands in his pocket as he walked away from me and I considered buying enough sleep aid to not wake up until Monday morning.

I'm not sure how I ended up at the second party. I think it may have been my roommate that dragged me there, maybe Louis from down the hall, or Harry from General Psychology. I decided immediately that I wanted to get spectacularly wasted. I thought about maybe letting someone fuck me but then I saw Liam's brown eyes in my head and I decided against it.

I was only at the bottom of my second glass when I saw him. He made his way through the front door and into the crowd when our eyes locked. I did a quick bottoms up as he came over to me, sitting alone on the couch.

"Hey," he had that easy grin he always wore, the one I found myself returning more often than not.

"Hey," I replied.

He sat down next to me, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm getting really drunk," I told him, because I didn't really see the point of lying.

Liam took the half-empty cup out of my hand and sat it on the coffee table, "Why are you doing that?"

"Because I hate myself," I told him, filter gone after the first glass.

Liam turned to me, "Why do you hate yourself, Zayn?"

I frowned, "because I'm a shit person."

He shook his head, "I don't think you're a shit person," he told me, and his eyes held all the truth in the world, "I rather like you, actually."

"I like you too," I told him, a blush creeping into my cheeks, "you're too good for me."

He shook his head again, "I'm not too good for anyone."

"Yes you are," I said, leaning close, "You have to stay away from horrible people like me, we'll suck up all the good in you until there's nothing left."

"I don't want to stay away from you," Liam told me.

"I want you to stay away from me," I lied.

His face looked hurt, but I ignored it, "If you really feel that way, then I will."

He really would have, that's the sad truth. He knew it and I knew it. If I had really wanted that, he would have agreed. Only, I didn't want that, so I couldn't look at him, I stared straight ahead, and nodded once.

"Look at me and say it," Liam said, a firmness in his voice that suprised me.

I kept my head facing forward, "I want you to leave me alone."

"Zayn," Liam said, "Look at me and say it."

I turned to him and my eyes met his. There was a pained expression that made me hate every fiber of my being. I hated myself so much more than before because I had put that expression there, I had caused that.

In that moment, my shell crumbled, "I-" I tried, but I couldn't, "I can't."

I reached for my cup, even though it was practically empty, but Niall grabbed it out of my reach, "Why don't we get you back home, Zayn?"

I looked at him for a moment, and then I nodded. He led me out the door and to a car, "You drove?"

"I'm D.D. for the night," he explained.

After I put my seatbelt on, I felt him watching me, I looked over, only to realize he was waiting for me to give him an adress.

"I'm in South Oak Hall," I told him and he nodded.

He didn't say anything while he drove, and I didn't say anything either. It was a comfortable silence, but every second that passed filled me with dread. It wasn't until he pulled up in front of the dorms that I realized why.

"I don't want to go in," He turned to me, and I bit my lip, "Can I just go to yours?"

He studied my face for a moment, clearly considering, "Ok," he put the car in drive and he continued, "I may be in and out all night, I promised my flatmate I'd drive him."

"That's ok," I told him. I watched his hands, one on the steering wheel and one on the arm rest. He was fidgety, tapping nervously and picking at the cracked leather on the arm rest. I almost reached out and touched him, but I decided against it and instead I glanced out the window.

His apartment building was only a minute or two off campus, not more than a five minute walk to the quad. It wasn't a super nice building, but there are a lot worse in town.

Liam's flat was immaculate. It wasn't anything incredible, but I could tell that someone spent a good amount of time keeping it clean. He slipped his shoes off at the door, and I found myself doing the same. It was layed out like most aparments around here, a small entry, a kitchen branching off of the living room, a single bathroom and two bedrooms on either side of the living room.

Both bedroom doors had one of those fake street signs hanging over it, the one to the left read Niall, and the one to the right read Liam.

"Do you want a change of clothes? Something more comfortable?" Liam asked as I sat on the couch.

"That would be great, thanks," I told him. He disappeared into the bedroom with the Liam sign, coming back out only seconds later with a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants.

"These'll probably be a bit big on you, but it's all I have. You can change in the bathroom, if you want," Liam told him, and I nodded. I took the clothes from him and slipped into the bathroom. Like the rest of the flat, it was spotless. On one wall, there were two laundry hampers, with Liam and Niall mongrammed on them. All the towels matched and the shower curtain was pulled closed. I found myself folding my clothes as I took them off.

Once I had his clothes on, I stepped out of the bathroom. Liam smiled at me from the couch, "I like that shirt more on you," I glanced down at the Texas Rangers t-shirt and felt a brush creep up on my cheeks. We sat on either end of the couch, facing each other, and chatted for a while, before Liam's phone went off.

"That's Niall, I've got to go get him. Help yourself to anything. If you want to go to bed, you can take my room, I'll sleep on the couch. Just," he paused for a second, looking around the flat "Try not to make a mess, ok?"

"I won't, thank you, Liam," I told him, and he grinned.

"Not a problem, I'll be back," and with that, he slipped out the door.

I fell asleep on the couch before Liam could get back, but I woke up this morning wrapped in a white comforter in an all-too-plain bedroom. At first I thought I was dead, surrounded in white with light streaming in through the window. It all felt like heaven, and for the first time in a long time, I didn't wake up feeling like the entire world was laying on my chest.

It took me a while to get up, probably an hour, but when I finally did, I could smell something cooking.

"Good morning," Liam greeted me with a smile, "I made pancakes."

"Thank you," I told him. He sat me down at the breakfast table, joining me only a moment later with both of our plates in his hands.

"Do you feel better?" His eyes staring into mine, too brown, too real, too deep, and it scared to death.

"I'm fine. I'm sorry for ruining your night last night." The pancakes were good. They understand me.

Liam shook his head, "You didn't ruin my night. I'm just worried about you."

I couldn't help but huff a laugh at that, "You shouldn't worry about me, Liam. It's not worth your time."

"You're worth it, Zayn. You're worth it."

It was all too much in that moment, "Please don't," I told him, grabbing at a chunk of my hair.

I can see his eyebrows draw up in confusion and I tug at my hair a bit harder than before, begging myself to stay in one piece.

"What did I do?" Liam asked, an unmistakeable hint of pain in his voice.

Suddendly, I needed to leave, I needed to get out. I stood up from the table, "You care too much. Stop caring about me, Liam. Forget about me, please."

I'm at the door quick, but Liam was even faster, blocking my way, "Let me go, please."

"No, Zayn," Liam shook his head.

"This isn't a game," I told him, nearly boiling.

Liam frowned, "I know it isn't a game. I'm not letting you go because I'm scared of what you'll do."

"I don't need your fucking pity," I spat at him, and he winced. I ate my words instantly, "Shit, Liam, I didn't mean that. I'm sorry. You're just trying to help, but I really, really, don't need your help."

"Yes you do, Zayn. It's ok to ask for help if you need help," he told me.

"I don't want your help," I told him.

He closed the distance between us in no time, a quick two steps and he's right in front of me. His hands rested on my hips, never making contact with my skin as he kissed me hard. The kiss didn't last as long as I would have liked, him pulling back and looking me in the eyes, "Let me help you."

And finally, I agree.

We spend the rest of the day on oppposite ends of the couch, a bowl of popcorn between us. He would get me laughing and I'm so completely different when I'm with him. His roommate, Niall, came and joined us at one point, a blonde boy with blue eyes and bright smiles. He's nice and he laughs without reserve.

When Niall leaves, and it's just Liam and I again, I scooted closer. He's got on a pair of sweats much like the ones he gave me, and a plain white t-shirt. I touched his thigh, and he jumped, looking over at me.

"Sorry," I tell him. He just gives me a small smile and turns back to the movie. My curiousity peaks, and I decide to try it again. Gently, I place my hand against his leg, and once again, he recoils.

"Liam?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you scared to touch me?" I ask him.

Liam looks at me, eyebrows drawing in and brown eyes even deeper than usual, "Why would you ask that?"

"You jump every time I touch you, and you never touch me skin-to-skin," I explained.

He frowned, "It's just, touch is a big deal. I take it very seriously."

"Are you a virgin?" I asked him, my own curiousity ruining me.

"No," Liam told me, answering quite shortly.

I frowned, "But you don't like touching?"

"Not if it's meaningless," he said.

"So touching me would be meaningless?" I asked, because, really, it didn't make any sense to me.

"No, Zayn, I never said that."

"You implied it."

Liam turned to me, "I'm scared, Zayn. I don't know what to do here, because I really like you, but I'm not sure if doing something about that will just end up hurting me in the end. I'm so confused, Zayn. Please, help me out. I'm trying to help you but I need you to help me, too."

"Touch me," I told him.

"But, Zayn."

"Touch me. I mean it if you mean it," I explained, and Liam nodded.

He put his hand on my face and kissed me, and in that moment I realized just how little I knew about him. I realized just how badly I want to know everything about him, how I want to be the one he tells his secrets to. I want to know how he built up the callouses on his hands and why he made those scars. I want to know how he got that purple bruise on his stomach. I want to know if he hurts like I hurt, and I want to be there to make him better. In that moment, I decided to stay alive, because knowing Liam is worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this is my second AO3 oneshot, comment your opinion please.


End file.
